Anubis Calling
by Stjerne Siren
Summary: He was on top of the world, nothing could bring him down, but now Moss is on the run from a world he never should have played with. Under the guise of a college student working in a cafe Marco Bodt must deal with pretending to be a normal human, but when he saves Jean Kirstein from a suicide attempt he begins to believe his own lies. Who is he? Moss or Marco? American or Gang lord?


_**Anubis Calling**____**Chapter 1~Jackal Child**___ Power. It was a delicious sin that could overwhelm you and make good men go mad for the want of it, no one knew this better then Moss Ba, the first born of twins. Brown eyes flecked with gold stared curiously out at a blue sky from where he hung upside down off the building. Black was a dark color, foreboding as the desert sparkling in Arabian heat, yet he wore it anyway. He let out a mad laugh, flinging out his hands and shedding ruby drops out into the mid-day light. Sirens could be heard from below, and Ymir, his cousin, was screaming into his radio for him to depart, but Anubis couldn't care; up here he was a god, a gang lord who ruled this small city of Egypt. This was power, and he was drunk upon it, like a fine wine, something he only needed more of. Wires snapped and suddenly he was falling and he could hear the multiple shouts of his gang members as he fell. Impact never came and Marco shot up out of his bed, sweat trickling down his forehead. He could feel the startled shifting of the whore next to him and he stood up, yanking himself away from her, stomping out onto his shitty balcony in New York city to fumble with his cheap cigarette pack. Instead he ended up throwing it into the street in annoyance and leaned against the railing with a sigh. He was struggling, trying to leave his past behind. He'd changed his hair style, dyed it black, taken on a different name, and even tried his luck at being a nice person. Problem was he just wanted to give everyone a nice bullet to the face, but he'd had to give up all his guns. Trying to distract himself from his thoughts he let his eyes wander out over the slowly waking city and huffed. It was a Saturday, which meant he didn't have a single responsibility. Normally he'd spend it in bed with his latest lapse back into depravity, but today he just wanted to go on a walk. With a finalized push the freckled and tattooed male headed back into his apartment and waved off the jabbering and dressing woman as he headed into his shower. He had gotten most of his tattoos removed but he'd kept three. A large Jackal peered out from his back above the hieroglyphic symbols on his hip bones. Then there was the one on his butt, but Marco never talked about the odd symbol, he'd been drunk when he got it as far as he knew, so it was a moot point. Right now all he cared about was that shower. He groaned as the hot water spluttered lamely over his muscled skin and he just stretched, accepting the crap shower all the same. This was what it felt like to be a Pharaoh on the run. He'd been a king, getting what he wanted, where he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. He was reminded of the Greek myth they'd learned about in world history the other day. He was like Icarus, and he'd flown to close to the sun and now he was paying for it. With a heavy sigh he began to rub at his skin as if it was on fire, grumbling to himself in his native tongue. It was going to be a rough day, he could tell already. Besides, it was always raining in New York, and he could already practically feel the electricity of a brewing storm tingling beneath his skin. He groaned and angrily kicked the shower wall, forgetting he was mortal for a brief second, and then shrieking in pain as he grabbed the stubbed appendage, cursing in every language he knew. Stupid tile, stupid ratty apartment, stupid New York City. Slamming the water off and immediately regretting it because of the sudden pain that ripped through him Marco stomped out of the shower and then sighed, leaning forward so his breath fogged up the mirror. He wasn't acclimating well to this, he had so many thoughts in his head, banging around like bouncy balls and he was going slightly crazy if he was being honest. With a frustrated huff he decided against trying to make himself look decent. He threw on his black slacks, a tight shirt, a nice-is black jacket, perfect for the New Yorker, adjusted his red scarf, snatched up his umbrella, and stormed out of his apartment. He didn't bother to check and see if the one night stand had left.

He just wanted to punch something so bad, his fingers twitching on his umbrella as the downpour began. He let his feet lead him, eyes dead ahead, ignoring everyone around him, scrambling to get where they needed as quickly as possible. He sighed heavily to himself, feeling out of place. This wasn't his world, not with the clicking of heels and sounds of cars honking away as they zipped about, Taxi's invading the streets like a disease. What was he but a strange freak of nature? A weird aberration, flickering in and out of existence, there but not quite, almost tangible, but fluid like the rain, splattering away from anyone who would get close. He'd always been like that and he was beginning to wonder if maybe the person he thought he was had actually been a lie. A sound startled him out of his tangle of thoughts as his eyes darted up to catch a glimpse of Hudson Bay. Dark lashes fluttered briefly as he wondered what power had led him here, he didn't understand, not one bit, Hudson Bay always smelled like fish and piss and so he tried to avoid it, but here he was. Frowning he decided to search for the sound that had caused him to break his reverie in the first place. There, he saw it, a young man, barely in his twenties stood at the edge of the dock. Marco sighed, The young man was crying his eyes out and honestly looked pitiful. He sighed again and turned to go, it wasn't any of his business, probably just a bad break up, those happened a lot around here. He was beginning to wonder if he should go buy some more cigarettes when he heard a loud splash from behind him. Marco's blood ran cold as he whirled on his heel and stared. The young man had _jumped_ and suddenly, without thinking, Marco was throwing away his jacket and scarf as in an oddly heroic move he dove in after the other. He ignored the stinging of the polluted water as he reached out for the sinking man, grabbing him and hauling him up and flinging him onto the docks. "What….the fuck!" Was his first sign that the other was alive as they both lay on the concrete, coughing and spluttering. The two-toned male snarled, gold eyes narrowing as he shakily stood. "I don't wanna live anymore! Why would you save someone who just wants it to end?" _Smack!_ The male tottered slightly in surprise as Marco slapped him hard and then dragged him forward by his collar so that they could practically taste each other. "Listen here!" he hissed. "Whatever you think is so bad isn't! How selfish can you be to just throw your life away like that? You nearly got us both killed because you were being a drama queen!" lips opened to protest but Marco just dragged him along behind him, not giving him the chance as he angrily swiped up his dry clothes. "And don't you dare tell me that I didn't have to save you because trust me I didn't _save _you, I just stopped you from being a stupid pig-headed idiot. You could have thrown away your dream job, dream house, even your fucking dream wife or husband or whatever you're into because you just gave up like a loser! Now we're both going to be cold and wet until we can get back to my apartment!" Marco was panting as he stormed through the streets, ignoring the looks he and the stupid idiot were getting as he headed for home, a fierce scowl on his face. He hadn't been this pissed since he'd been forced to come to New York and leave behind his life of danger and glamour, which was, undeniably, his own fault, but he was still angry about it. "I'm sorry…" the boy whispered and he stopped, pausing to turn and look at the once again teary-eyed young man. Oh no, he was so bad with crying, he really didn't want to deal with that, he really couldn't deal with that, those eyes sinking into sorrow. This wasn't some stupid break up; Marco had opened a can of worms. "Shit…" he fidgeted as he moved toward the other. "No I'm sorry I yelled I just…" he ran a hand through his hair and then sighed. So much for cigarettes. "Comfort food...come on I know just the place ok?" he grumbled and pulled the other along, this time holding his hand, going as slow as he could and being gentle as his grumpy demeanor allowed. This seemed to soothe the young man a bit, food was always acceptable apparently and Marco couldn't help the slight twitch of his lips, at least he wasn't crying and stumbling along behind him now. With a ring of a bell Marco walked into the cafe he worked at, Wall Rose or something like that. It was a really comfy place with a pleasant atmosphere and practically was rank with the smell of _clean._ The cafe owner, Levi, was a stickler for cleanliness. Not that he minded really, Levi was a good boss, and his husband Erwin helped keep it cheery. A blond head popped up from behind the counter and Marco recognized his only friend Armin. The little smarty normally only worked late night shifts since it fit in better with his classes, but he was glad to see him. "Hello, welcome…oh my god Marco is that you? What's wrong? Are you ok?" he gasped out in a panic, rushing from behind the counter and stumbling up to the two very wet boys leaving a puddle on the floor in the middle of the cafe. "Ah just…" he chuckled, smiling shyly and falling easily into his role as the 'sweet, innocent boy Marco Bodt'. "Well my friend here slipped into the bay and I helped him out, it's no big deal, we're just kind of wet is all…I don't suppose we could have some coffee and comfort food?" Admin snorted, he knew Marco was underplaying what had happened, but he was used to the others humble nature. He knew Moss's undercover personality pretty well, he also knew his secret dark side pretty well to. "You just sit there and let Mama Armin take care of it!" he chirped and Marco snorted, giving in with ease. He'd long since learned you didn't argue with 'Mama Armin'. Sitting down he sighed as he motioned for the other to sit and winced when he made a squelching noise. "All right, first thing's first. Name." Marco demanded and the man sighed. "I..I'm Jean Kirstein." he whispered softly, looking thoroughly chewed out and Marco snorted. It was still pretty damn early all things considered so the cafe was pretty dead. "Look, I don't know why you were trying to kill yourself and I'm sorry I snapped at you but…no matter how much it sucks just ending your life isn't going to do anything…" Jean sighed and whimpered, sprawling across the table like a loser and Marco sighed, how annoying. "I know that but I just…guess I caught up in the moment. Um I…thanks for saving me uh…whatever your name is." Apparently eloquence was not the others strong point. "I'm Marco, Marco Bodt, for what it's worth…" he huffed and then shrugged. Armin came over with a tray of coffee and steaming basil tomato soup. Marco's mouth watered, basil and tomato soup was like his one weakness in this world. "Oh my god Armin you _saint._" he practically moaned out, digging eagerly into the soup as Jean just sipped his coffee. Armin just chuckled as he sat down with the two and then sighed. "All right tell me what really happened, I know for a fact that you can't just slip and fall into the bay." Jean flushed and looked down in shame. "It was my fault." he began and Marco blinked curiously. "I…I've been bullied since like first grade because I've always been kind of grumpy and naturally pessimistic. I was always in trouble and as such always alone…" Marco suppressed a groan, gods he hated life stories with a burning passion, but for the sake of his persona he listened. "I guess finding out that mom died was a…bit much. I mean I was doing ok without friends, it was hard yeah but I just…kept hoping I guess, but then she died and I just…snapped. She was like my last life line so…yeah…" Armin pulled the other into a hug and Marco smiled a fake smiled and patted his hand gently. "I…get it. Armin is my only friend, has been since I moved here from the country." he shrugged. The country? Ew gross, like hell he'd live there, that was too far from the city, it was bad enough he had to behave like he was poor when he was actually as rich as a king. Armin smiled softly. "Yeah...we've both had our struggles but it's gonna be ok now, promise. You should eat your soup, it'll help." he stood and wandered back behind the counter to help the sudden spotting of customers. "When you're done…" Marco began softly. "You can come back to my place." Jean grinned and nodded eagerly. He was so innocent and Marco forced back a growl, he just wanted to taint him so bad. Jean Kirstein and Marco Bodt, aka Moss Ba, were in for the ride of their life, and a lone figure stood outside the cafe, a dark smirk on his lips as he watched the odd exchange. "How curious of you…" and with a swirl of shadows the stranger was gone, leaving nothing but a small wet patch under the awning. Life was going to be very interesting from now on, for all of them.


End file.
